Chronicles of Light
by Sokai
Summary: /ON HIATUS/ Follows the birth, life, and tragic death of Queen Elyon's birth mother, Säde. . . .
1. Prologue

**Chronicles of Light**

**Prologue**

**By: Sokai**

**Disclaimer: **I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the workings of W.I.T.C.H. -- I leave _that_ honor up to Elisabetta Gnone. Nor do I own Elyon's birth parents names of Wiera and Zaden. However, I can and DO claim to own this story and its inspired ideas FROM said series, as well as Wiera and Zaden's personality and history, and the original characters thrown into the mix. **Remember this**.

Note: _Also note that I do not own the video game, "Chrono Cross," and what Princess Schala/Kid (who rocks LoL) says in the movie opener that you'll read in two seconds. I just always really liked it (the whole game and "Trigger," period, really LoL) and thought most of it kind of fit for something Wiera would say (or Elyon, if you want, although I personally see it as something Wiera had said or written, rather. I don't know LoL)._

_Anyhow, I'd always wanted to write a story that focused upon Elyon's past and how it led up to the present and future we all know it to be right now. More specifically? Elyon's birth family. And since I don't see a lot of them floating around on here, I thought, why not? I highly doubt I will get far or finish, as I do have others to finish (and will, no worries. My style of getting inspired for one story is to mulit-task with others. So YES, they WILL be updated, my other stories! Trust me LoL). But I thought I'd at least post the prologue._

_Enjoy._

This story was first thought up in April 2006 and actually written/created completely in August 2006.

_What was the start of all this?_

_When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?_

_Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now,_

_From deep within the flow of time . . ._

_But, for a certainty, back then,_

_We loved so many, yet hated so much,_

_We hurt others and were hurt ourselves . . ._

_Yet even then we ran like the wind_

_Whilst our laughter echoed,_

_Under cerulean skies . . ._

_**-- Princess Schala/Kid, "Chrono Cross"**_

"Grandma Elyon! Grandma Elyon! It's time!" cried out a young girl in a flowing blue gown seemingly between the ages of ten to twelve excitedly while racing down one of the many long, brightly lit and lavishly decorated royal corridors within her home -- her _palace_ -- of Meridian.

Her curly, shoulder length, sunlit hair bounced gaily beyond her as her happy, powder blue tinted eyes glistened with exhilaration and zeroed-in upon her objective.

It was approaching brunch time, during which the young princess and her beloved grandmother and queen would sit inside of the palace's private gardens and enjoy the beautiful scenery of their peaceful kingdom within the mystical world of Metamoor.

It was also when her grandmother would entertain her with various stories of her past adventures with the fabled Guardians of the Veil.

_I can't wait until I come into my full powers, then I can go off and have as many cool adventures like the kind grandma used to have_, the young princess thought anxiously to herself as she flew past the royal guards posted outside the open, tall ivory colored doors that led straight into the gardens.

"Grandma! Here I am! Don't start eating without me!" the girl called out the moment she'd spotted the familiar sight of the antiquated female sovereign within her _own_ blue colored gown, seated patiently as well as gracefully beside a trickling fountain.

"Fallon, my love -- _there_ you are," said Queen Elyon with a warm smile as her own, same shade of blue colored eyes watched her only grandchild take a seat next to her. "Still refusing to go easy on your gowns with all your inappropriate _gallivanting_ while in them, I see?"

The young girl apparently known as Fallon giggled sheepishly at the older matriarch. She marveled at how much alike the two looked (even more than she did her mother), with the exception that Elyon's own blonde hair was more of the sandy-platinum nature and flowed freely like a river around her.

Secretly, it was Fallon's desire to grow up to be as courageous, bold and beautiful as her grandmother, and hearing the stories of her past was a good start in that direction.

"Sorry about that, grandma! It's just that this is always my most favorite part of the day! I _love_ hearing all about who you were and still are!" gushed Fallon with extreme admiration while eagerly seizing a Ladyfinger from off of the silver platter in between them. "You seem to have gone through _far_ much more than _I_ ever will in my entire life!"

At this, Queen Elyon's warm simper began to noticeably fade as her eyes grew glassy with concentrated reflection.

". . . And hopefully you never _will_," she sighed with great sadness, eyes now downcast and away from her granddaughter's curious and questioning stare. "Hopefully you will _break_ the cycle . . ."

"Cycle? Break _what_ cycle, grandma?" pressed Fallon in growing fear, the bit of Ladyfinger within her mouth beginning to take on the bitter taste of sawdust. "_Break what cycle_? What aren't you telling me?"

This was the first time that the young princess of Meridian had ever witnessed her grandmother be anything but happy or forthright -- and quite frankly it was terrifying to witness.

Sensing her growing distress, Queen Elyon forced a small, reassuring smile upon her relatively smooth face at the same time that she returned her gaze back to Fallon and rested a vaguely withered hand upon the girl's lap.

". . . Perhaps it was a mistake to have shared with you only the _positive_ stories from the days of my youth, little one," she began, her traditionally reinforced voice suddenly sounding quite tired and ragged. "However, I only wanted to spare you the knowledge of all the heartache, betrayal, and struggle I'd gone through . . . and _moreover_, what my _mother_ had gone through . . ."

". . . You mean what Great-grandmother Eleanor had gone through?" queried Fallon in confusion, brows deeply furrowed as she tried to understand what her sullen grandmother was trying to relay.

True, young Fallon had never gotten the opportunity to meet the woman and did not honestly know much about her, as she had died long before she was born; however, it was to Fallon's understanding that Eleanor had been a very loving and giving person -- much like Queen Elyon, herself.

Queen Elyon slowly shook her head in response, unable to answer for a moment.

"W . . . Well, if not Great-grandmother Eleanor, then who --"

"-- My _real_ mother, Fallon . . . that is, my _birth_ mother, Queen Wiera," interrupted Queen Elyon in revelation, causing her granddaughter to gasp loudly in surprise.

Suddenly and for the first time in her young life, Fallon didn't know which way was up or down; left or right. It had never crossed her mind that anyone within her life -- _especially_ not her grandmother -- would ever keep secrets from her.

And as hurt as she felt right then to learn that she in fact _had _all along, Fallon had to _also_ keep in mind that Elyon had apparently done it with the very best intentions.

Moving directly beside the elderly woman, Princess Fallon wrapped her small hands around Queen Elyon's and smiled weakly.

". . . I can tell that this is obviously something that is hard for you to reflect upon, grandma," she whispered softly, studying her grandmother's face. "So if you do not wish to tell me, I will _completely_ understand."

Sighing once more, Queen Elyon shook her sandy-blonde head firmly as she gazed bravely at her princess.

"_No_. Granted, this is not a part of our family history that I care to reminisce upon as frequently as I do everything else -- especially since it was something I had to learn within my _dreams_ of all places, if you can believe it. However, I will do so for yours and your future childrens' sake . . ." she replied within her _own_ whisper before drawing in a long breath to prepare for what would obviously be a very long tale . . . one unlike any other . . .

**-- End of Prologue**

**(A.N. Lookit that. Yet another cryptic prologue from yours truly. Surprise? Not for the 38 of you who've added me to your author alerts list, no. LoL You're used to it. LoL Still, since this is just something I wrote one-two-three, I . . . yeah. I don't know what I'm saying. LoL It's late and I'm tired and I'm sure there's mistakes but as always I'll catch 'em again and change 'em on my disk, so don't bother telling me, thanks. So, yep. Like it, hate it. There it is. Review, please? Don't? I don't know! LoL Don't expect updates any time soon if at all, sorry. LoL)**


	2. Book One: Dawn, Chapter One

**Chronicles of Light**

**By: Sokai**

**Disclaimer: **I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the workings of W.I.T.C.H. -- I leave _that_ honor up to Elisabetta Gnone. Nor do I own Elyon's birth parents' names of Wiera and Zaden. However, I can and DO claim to own this story and its inspired ideas FROM said series, as well as Wiera and Zaden's personality and history, and the original characters thrown into the mix. **Remember this**.

Note: _So, okay. I'm seeing on sites like that Wiera's name is spelled "Weira," yet on my tv caption it said "Wiera" when I watched the episode last night. It could have been programmed into wrong, as witchlover did work for W.I.T.C.H. and knows a thing or two about a thing or two. Still, before any of you do that whole "Ha! Spelled it wrong!" on me, I'm still keeping it as "Wiera" because it looks better and more "respectable" if that makes sense. "Weira" looks too close to "weird" and SOUNDS like "weird-o" or something. Plus, the closest relation to this name I'd found spells it "Wi" instead of "We." So . . . yeah. LoL_

_Another, more important note. I've decided to divide this entire story into three separate "books" (YES, like how "Avatar: The Last Airbender" does), only because it makes much more sense to better convey the different points within Elyon's birth mother's life. So get used to seeing "Book One: Chapter Thirteen" headings for each update. Yay. LoL I've also decided to name each book in relation to Elyon's royal family background. So, no, it isn't coincidence when/if you catch on and see the connection. LoL_

* * *

This first book/chapter was written/created in August 2006.

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**BOOK ONE: **

**DAWN**

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**THE BIRTH OF DESTINY  
**

* * *

Bright, welcoming light warmly shined forth upon the world of Metamoor, a mystical and fantastic dimension separated by an equally mystical and fantastic Veil (created by an ethereal kingdom, Candracar, found within the center of infinity, that kept its proverbial eye perennially upon the affairs of other known and _unknown_ worlds besides that of Metamoor) to ensure that no world-intermingling would occur.

Then again, as helpful as the Veil continued to be in doing so, had there _not_ been any sort of prior interaction with otherworldly creatures and the world of Metamoor, then _said_ world's inhabitants would be unable to, on this glorious day, celebrate the birth of yet another new addition to the family of those who have kindly ruled over them for centuries . . .

Had the Metamoorian people not entreated Candracar's benevolent, God-like being, the Oracle, for help against volatile offenders, then he would never have chosen the valiant British warrior, Escanor of the planet Earth as their savior.

Therefore, as a result, the beautiful and flourishing capital of Meridian would never have been founded in an_ honor _of Escanor (in _addition_ to his four comrades, Hoel, Idier, Grendal and Brandis, who had also fought courageously at his side) and his bride Leryn, where the two had then proceeded to assume the throne for them and their future descendants to rule.

And so, while today was a grand and momentous occasion for the Galhot (the blue-skinned, original natives of Metamoor) and Cross-breed (the facial-marked, human-like offspring of a Galhot and Escanor) species, it would be the Royal Family of Escanor who would rejoice the most.

In mere moments, Meridian's current monarch, Queen Wiera, would soon give birth to her first child . . .

"Come on your majesty, you can do it! _Push_!" urged the royal palace's head midwife, Ilithyia, blue eyes shimmering with persistence as she continued to concentrate on successfully delivering the latest member of the Escanor family.

"I . . . do not think I _can_, Ilithyia!" moaned Ilithyia's current patient lying before her, Queen Wiera, in between exasperated sobs. She knew that she would ultimately have to, provided that she wanted her first child to be born safely.

However, unbeknownst to those surrounding her, she felt deplorably weak, as the seconds continued to pass. She was afraid that, due to the continuous, physical strain to her deteriorating body, she would not make it through . . .

"Yes you _can_, Amala, my love -- you _can_," said Queen Wiera's faithful and loving husband, Royal Consort Casimir, standing at her side as he referred to her by her birth name. Queen Wiera weakly turned her crimson colored head towards him in acknowledgment, as he compassionately brushed away the few strands of hair that had matted themselves down onto her creamy hued forehead (due to increased perspiration) and smiled soothingly down at her.

"I am here by your side, so you are not alone in this." Queen Wiera managed to wearily smile back Casimir as her only response to his reverent words, before turning her fleeting attention back onto the ebony haired midwife crouched before her private region.

"A . . . All right . . ." she breathed tiredly, before taking a deep breath and giving yet another exhausting push. She tightly gritted her teeth as the familiar, unfortunate pain that had accompanied her since the beginning of her labor an hour ago began to shoot up her body.

Amidst all of the coaxing for her to push, as well as her concentration upon doing so, Queen Wiera's mind began to focus upon the future . . . one that she was increasingly aware, deep within her heart, that she would not be apart of.

Suddenly screaming at the top of her lungs, Queen Wiera felt her body become wracked with yet another jolt of pain that swiftly brought her back to reality.

"That's it, your majesty! Just another push, and it will be over!" said Ilithyia, continuing to coach with a furrowed brow, observing that the time was near.

_Yes . . . yes, it **will **be over . . . _thought Wiera with great sadness plaguing her weakening heart. She desperately wanted the pain -- the labor, to cease; however, at the _same_ time, she profusely wished that it could somehow prolong . . . at _least_ long enough for her to . . .

Royal Consort Casimir gently smiled, wincing in pain as he felt his wife roughly squeeze his muscular hand that she had promptly seized.

"Do you hear that, my love? In mere moments, you and I will be proud parents for the first of many a time, I am sure," he stated happily, his heart swelling with love and rapture.

Queen Wiera could only smile faintly, as she exhaled and got ready to push one final time as her meticulous midwife had instructed.

"_Aahh_!" she screeched in agony and desperation, at the same time that Ilithyia cried out in excitement.

"That's it! That's _it_! I am able to see the head! Oh, it is so _beautiful_, my queen!"

As both Ilithyia and Royal Consort Casimir focused upon the final stages of the delivery, they regrettably did not notice that Queen Wiera's drained body had begun to grow slack.

Just then, a tiny cry pierced through the atmosphere as an exhausted Queen Wiera felt Ilithyia pull out the tiny newborn baby from out of her womb.

"_Waaah!! Waaah!!_" wailed the healthy infant as its tiny body flailed around within the sable haired midwife's arms.

"You _did_ it! It is a _girl_!" exclaimed Ilithyia happily, carefully and gently raising the newborn higher so that her queen could see, before proceeding to clean and take care of it.

"_Remarkable_ job, Amala -- she is _astoundingly_ beautiful, precisely like her _mother_," complimented Casimir, gazing upon his brand new daughter and princess, before affectionately planting a kiss upon Wiera's head.

Tears welled up within Queen Wiera's gray colored eyes as she weakly extended her arms out to claim her child as Ilithyia gently handed her over. She gazed down lovingly at the now contently cooing infant, rich brown eyes looking back at her in curiosity.

"Oh, my precious, _precious_ little Säde," she whispered to the baby girl, whose name she had apparently already chosen for her, before gently stroking her auburn colored head. "You will never even _begin_ to fathom precisely how much I love you . . ."

Queen Wiera greatly wished to say more to Meridian's new little princess, Säde, but found herself immensely overcome with fatigue as her breathing became steadily shallow. She had hardly taken notice of when her husband had carefully taken her away to cradle for a few moments, as the world around her began to tremendously blur.

Closing her now lackluster eyes for what she knew was the final time, Queen Amala "Wiera" Escanor briefly reflected upon all those she would leave behind: her loving husband; ever-watchful sister; loyal subjects; and, most recently, her innocent daughter, who would be forced to grow up without ever knowing her mother . . .

Feeling her body losing all strength, the queen of Meridian managed to utter a few words before she was warmly claimed by the Great Beyond,

". . . Be good, Säde, my love . . . and be _strong _. . ."

**-- End of Chapter One  
**

* * *

**_(A.N. There it is. Säde's birth, and her mommy's sad and simultaneous death. Won't THAT be "fun" for Säde, to have her birthday also forever be her mother's death . . . Anyhow, I don't know what else to say about this, so yeah. Hope you enjoyed. LoL) _**


	3. Book One: Dawn, Chapter Two

**Chronicles of Light**

**By: Sokai**

**Disclaimer: **I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the workings of W.I.T.C.H. -- I leave _that_ honor up to Elisabetta Gnone. Nor do I own Elyon's birth parents' names of Wiera and Zaden. However, I can and DO claim to own this story and its inspired ideas FROM said series, as well as Wiera and Zaden's personality and history, and the original characters thrown into the mix. **Remember this**.

Note:_ Ouch. Only one new review for the previous chapter. Guess you're all "turned off" cuz this doesn't focus so much on the Guardians, huh? Oh well. It'll still turn out to be an interesting story, nonetheless. But yeah, apparently there's some confusion? Säde is Elyon's birth mother. Amala is/was Elyon's grandmother, and Säde's mother. I've made the name "Wiera" is the royal name of all of the women in the Escanor family, kind of like Queen Serenity in Sailormoon, etc. So, please don't get confused and think that Säde is Elyon's sister. No, she's her mother, and Säde is the birth name I'd given to her._

_Anyway. Yeah, it's "witchinsider," not lover as I'd written in the last note. I know this. I WAS half asleep when I'd written it, and that was all the way in August, so whatever. Anyway, I'm sure this story's getting "ignored" just cuz it focuses on Elyon's history, and isn't really about the Guardians.. Ah, well. A handful of you seem to like it, so I'll take it (and no, I'm **not** really in the best of spirits right now/lately. A bit discouraged about one of my other stories getting "shunned" just cuz of its genre. But c'est la vie)._

_Oh, and yes, as always, I've named every one of my original charries the way I have for a related reason. If you care to know what their names mean, just contact me._

_**Important Credits:** There are several poems that will be recited by my characters that I must give appropriate credit for. The very first (which will be read by Amala's sister) is a funeral poem by an unknown author (at least, as far as I know), entitled, "The Broken Chain." The second (read by Amala's husband) is another funeral poem by A.K. Rowswell, entitled "Should You Go First." And finally, at the very end of this chapter is one of my favorite quotes, entitled "A Mother's Love," said by one I have yet to find out, unfortunately.  
_

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This first book/chapter was written/created in October 2006.

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**Ô**

**BOOK ONE: **

**DAWN**

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**The Passing  
**

* * *

A cool breeze swept through the somber atmosphere of Meridian, several days after the glorious birth of the municipality's new princess, and tragic departing of its queen. The once joyous kingdom was now plagued with dolor, as it prepared to say goodbye to a longtime cherished and honored benevolent monarch.

And honor her for the final time the Metamoorian inhabitants intended to do.

Despite the regrettable circumstances, the weather was nonetheless spectacular as always, with the sun shining brightly and steadily upon the private, Royal Cemetery. As had been the case with the other deceased members of the Escanor family, Queen Wiera had been placed within a grand marble-based tomb. Because blue had been her most favored of colors to adorn herself in, she had been buried in one of her favorite day gowns, made of the finest deep blue velvet. Her waist-length, mesmerizing cardinal colored tresses had been taken out of its usual elegant pigtails she'd had fancied keeping them in, and was instead swept up into an equally elegant up do atop her peaches and cream complexion.

Kept within a superb glass coffin, Queen Wiera's flawless body would never decompose, courtesy of her older and only sister, Princess Ziv (due to the innate, mystical power harbored within the Escanor women). As royal and common subjects alike filtered into the cemetery to observe their fallen queen, it both soothed and afflicted them all to observe. For it was as though she were merely slumbering, beautiful gray eyes only momentarily sheltered from the world.

However, it would _never_ be _momentary_, but forever _permanent_ . . .

Because it was an Escanor Royal Family tradition for the women to lead any and all ceremonies, it had fallen upon Princess Ziv's shoulders to conduct the entire Passing solemnity. It was just as well, as her brother-in-law, Royal Consort Casimir, was _far _too distraught to utter more than one word, let alone an entire _ceremony's_ worth. He sat, dressed within all black regal attire and hunched over within his seat nearest to his wife's glass casket. His long, sunlit blonde hair gently caressed his desolate countenance from time to time (due to the continued, gentle wind that seemed to almost want to wipe away the steady flow of tears that fell from out of his dark brown eyes).

Casimir felt supremely angry with himself that he did not have the power -- _any_ sort of power -- to have been able to save Amala's life. It felt as though, the only thing he'd had to offer to her -- to their loyal subjects -- was his physical presence and noble title. He'd never previously realized precisely how much it made him feel like a worthless figurehead, because he had not been born with and did not have any inherent abilities as his beloved wife had been endowed with.

Perhaps _that_ was precisely why only the _women_ within the Escanor lineage were allowed and eternally destined to rule, _because_ of that immense energy dwelling within each and every one of them that would undoubtedly continue to grow as each generation passed.

Regardless of the absolute reason, Casimir had never much concerned himself with it going into his courtship and eventual marriage to Amala. None of that had honestly mattered to him, because he loved her tremendously and had intended to and _did _gladly support her, while she acted as head ruler of Meridian.

Now that Amala was _gone_, however, Casimir felt as though his views were beginning to drastically change, at the same time that his heart began to swell with foreign vexation and inadequacy.

_It was my **continued** lack of might -- both royally as well as magically -- that has resulted in your death, my love_,he thought depressingly, staring vacantly down at his hands in increased realization. _And now, our people will **surely** begin to suffer now without you, and I will **still** be unable to appropriately help . . . as **Ziv**, not **I**, shall soon take your place as ruler . . ._

Casimir felt his limp appendages beginning to clench tightly in surprised, growing resentment he had never felt before as he gazed upon his sister-in-law carrying on with the Passing ceremony before him. He truly loved and treasured Ziv almost as much as he always had Amala, and respected her tremendously as a bold and esteemed member of the Escanor family.

In fact, it would have been _Ziv_ to have ascended the throne as the new Queen Wiera before Amala, as Ziv was the older sister. However, tradition _also_ dictated that only either a betrothed or already wed Escanor woman could rule as chosen queen. And because Ziv had been and still was _neither_, the title had gone to Amala (which was something Casimir honestly never quite understood, as Ziv was nearly identical to her younger sister in regards to beauty _and_ wit).

Of course, _now_ there _was _no choice, as besides little newborn Säde, Ziv was the only other living, eligible future queen to rule over Meridian.

_Perhaps one day that decree shall change, and a **male** member of the Royal Family shall rise to power_, fleetingly mused Casimir, a bit bitterly as he slowly began to focus his attention onto Princess Ziv's eulogy.

"We have, all of us, gathered here to say our final farewells to our beloved ruler, Queen Amala "Wiera" Escanor, and to commit her into the hands of the Great Beyond," said the wise and headstrong Princess Ziv, dressed within her _own_ black attire, as she stood tall before the mourning guests. While her voice and demeanor remained steadily fortified with courage, her uniquely distinct, heterochromatic eyes of hazel and brown shimmered with visible hurt.

As Amala's older sister, it had always fallen upon Ziv to look out for her as well as her best interests -- to ensure that Amala would never stray or become lost.

_Now that you are gone, I fear it is **I** who will become lost, Mala_, she silently reflected as she referred to her younger sister by the nickname she had for so long bestowed onto her. She allowed her eyes to travel away from the guests and onto the crystal clear coffin. _I may have always been deemed the more "unyielding" of the two of us, with you continuing to look to me for strength and guidance . . . However, it was **from** you that I continued to secretly draw my own strength._

_You were this world's luminescence, with your grace, beauty, and kindness . . . it will be something I shall dearly miss . . . I only pray that I will be able to instill into little Säde every **ounce** of your qualities -- I am certainly going to **try**._

"At this time, I shall deliver onto you a moving recitation that, _I _believe, captures the _true_ essence -- as _well_ as _sentiments_ -- shared by each and every one of us in regard to our lost Queen Wiera," said Ziv profoundly, lightly clearing her throat as she closed her eyes and blindly tucked a loose strand of her shoulder length, dark chocolate colored hair that was in its usual tight bun.

"We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name,  
In life we loved you dearly,in death we do the same.  
It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone.  
For part of us went with you, the day God called you home.  
You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide,  
And though we cannot see you, you are always at our side.  
Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same,  
But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again . . ."

Princess Ziv paused appropriately a few moments after finishing, tuning out the strong chorus of sobs that had then begun to ring out into the atmosphere, for she was certain that it would undoubtedly do her in.

And she simply could not afford to ever appear weak in front of those who would soon have her as their new queen . . .

"At this time, I shall allow Royal Consort Casimir his voice for a few moments, as he has his _own_ personal recitation -- one final gift -- to bestow onto his departed wife . . ." she stated firmly, before turning her jewel decorated head towards the still weeping blonde male to her left with an becalmed glance gracing her smooth visage.

"My thanks to you, your royal highness," said Casimir as strongly as his vacillating emotions could currently allow, slowly standing from his seat and moving to take his place at Princess Ziv's side. He gave the Passing attendants a brief once over of acknowledgment, before turning to face his wife's glass casket and placed both of his shaky hands upon it.

Taking a deep, extended inhale (as he prepared himself to recite his heartfelt message and more tears welled up within his brown eyes), Casimir gazed both lovingly and forlornly upon Amala's immobile, yet peaceful appearing body eternally encased within her final resting place.

"Should you go first and I remain  
to walk the road alone  
I'll live in memory's garden, dear  
with happy days we've known  
In Spring I'll wait for roses red,  
when fades the lilacs blue,  
In early Fall, when brown leaves call I'll catch a glimpse of you

Should you go first, and I remain  
for battles to be fought,  
Each thing you've touched along the way will be a hallowed spot  
I'll hear your voice; I'll see your smile, though blindly I may grope  
the memory of your helping hand  
will buoy me on with hope

Should you go first and I remain  
to finish with the scroll,  
no length'ning shadows shall creep in to make this life seem droll  
We've known so much of happiness  
we've had our cup of joy,  
and memory is one gift of God  
that death cannot destroy

Should you go first and I remain,  
one thing I'd have you do;  
walk slowly down that long, lone path, for soon I'll follow you  
I'll want to know each step you take that I may walk the same,  
for some day down that lonely road  
you'll hear me call your name . . ."

By some _miracle_, Casimir had managed to complete his entire, heartfelt deliverance, before completely breaking down. Amala, his eternal light, was gone from him, and he was not at all certain how he would be able to go on.

_But I **must** -- for our **daughter's** sake_, he thought in firm resolution. He slowly moved away from the coffin, looked beyond the sobbing guests and towards the palace in the distance, where his newborn princess remained (being looked after by a distraught Ilithyia, who secretly also felt a bit guilt-ridden for her queen's demise, as she had been her midwife).

Although it hurt everyone throughout the entire kingdom to be, from now on, without Queen Wiera, in no one would that hurt resonate _greater_ within than _Säde_. She would never have known her mother's smile; her mother's continuous, loving touch; her mother's laughter.

_Well_ before her life had even begun to unfold, Casimir's new daughter was _already_ faced with great hardship and tragedy.

_But it will not **always** be this way for you, Säde. I will make certain that your life be filled with nothing but love and joy_, both Casimir and Ziv mentally vowed simultaneously and unbeknownst to the other, as the Passing drew to a close.

". . . And now I shall complete the ceremony, with the traditional, final blessing," said Princess Ziv, inclining her head towards the future subjects, who all, at the same time, rose from their seats in observance while Royal Consort Casimir moved to the other side of Amala's casket to stand directly across from his sister-in-law.

All at once did everyone present close their eyes, while Ziv blindly seized one of Casimir's hands and the both of them rested their free ones onto the coffin in between them. Almost immediately did Ziv's body begin to glow the warm, pure white of her inborn power's aura, that began to engulf Casimir before enveloping Amala's casket.

"The Light bless you and watch over you. The Light make its face shine upon you, and be gracious to you," began Princess Ziv with a distinct, solemn air despite her best attempts to remain unglued. "The Light look kindly on you and give you peace; In the Name of the Great Beyond, all that it holds, and of the Holy Light . . ."

As she spoke her final word, both Ziv and Casimir's bodies ceased to glow the moment that she'd opened her eyes and let go of his hand. However, even though the both of them had also raised their hands from the coffin, it continued to be bathed in a warm, steady aura, and would _remain_ as such for always (as was the custom during any Passing ceremony for an Escanor).

The rest of the guests reopened their eyes as well, and all at once did everyone in attendance express the final, closing supplication that would officially end the ceremony:

". . . Return to the Light . . ."

All of Meridian's thoughts and condolences were converged onto the Passing congregation at that moment, as the guests began to slowly disperse. It would be a while before anything would go completely back to normal, but it _was_ possible. All everyone had to keep in mind, was that Amala was not_ truly_ departed, for she had left behind her legacy -- her little ray of light (whose dreams were currently being infiltrated with beautiful, loving words granted onto her from the ethereal plane, as she continued to sleep within her bedchamber back inside of the palace):

"_A mother's love is like a circle, it has no beginning and no ending. It keeps going around and around ever expanding, touching everyone who comes in contact with it. Engulfing them like the morning's mist, warming them like the noontime sun, and covering them like a blanket of evening stars. A mother's love is like a circle, it has no beginning and no ending."_

**-- End of Chapter Two  
**

* * *

_**(A.N. Phew. That was fun. Not really. Came easy, but still. And normally I like to put descriptive text "breaks" in between long winded "speeches," but I honestly got lazy and didn't feel like it. Plus, I'd thought it might break the "mood" or sentiment if I had. Sue me, it's close to 1 in the morning here. LoL Anyway, so I decided to be as "original" as possible, and call their funerals "passings," instead of funerals – hence the title. And then whole ceremony itself, tried to be as original as possible. Of course, like I said I did use a few funeral poems that actually exist, as well as that final blessing prayer that Ziv says at the end of the service. Except I changed "Lord" to "Light," and tried not to say "God" or "Heaven" as much as possible. Would have altered the poems Ziv and Casimir recited to not say "Spring" and "Fall," etc, but that would infringe upon the poets' original work. Bad enough I'd used the poems at all, as beautiful and appropriate as they are. Anyway, there it is, Amala's burial.)**_


End file.
